


Father

by firerwolf



Series: Spartan IV [6]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firerwolf/pseuds/firerwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah makes a visit to see her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father

Sarah sat alone in the bar, staring down at the glass of liquid she'd barely touched. There wasn't a point in trying to drink her troubles away, her augmentations made it so she couldn't numb herself with alcohol the way she did during her ODST days. She'd been sitting in the booth for the last ten minutes just trying to sort through the torrent of emotions that she was currently fighting while she waited. A quick glance at her com-pad showed he was later than she'd estimated, and she was starting to get antsy. She looked like a fool sitting there on her own; with a barely finished drink and glancing toward the door every minute to see if he'd arrived yet. She already felt ridiculous enough wearing her dress uniform, but she'd just put that with the collection of mistakes she'd made that day.

The door to the bar opened and finally the man she'd been waiting on entered. He wore a pair of slightly faded jeans and a gray shirt with the UNSC logo over the left breast. He spotted her immediately and made a b-line to her booth. He set his carry-bag on the bench opposite her and slid in beside it. "I came when I got your message," he told her as he settled into his seat. His eyes were studying her, looking for any sign or signal. "It didn't go well." It was a statement, not a question. But Sarah would think him an idiot if after getting a from her while she was crying that he'd thought everything went well.

She inwardly cringed when she remembered the rushed call she'd made to him when the emotions had been at their highest and she had crumbled under them. She'd choked out her request for them to meet between shaking breaths and attempts to muffle sobs. It was another thing on her list of the day's mistakes. "That's a bigger understatement than Scrugg's comment about Hunter's having thick armor." She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"Tell me what happened," he prompted, giving her his full attention.

* * *

Sarah heard the doorbell echo inside the house from where she stood at the front door. Usually it would still sound muffled, but with how tense she was feeling her enhanced senses were kicked into high gear so to her it sounded loud and clear. She could also hear the footsteps as they approached and she braced herself. The door slid open and she looked down at the man who stood before her. He was a few inches shorter than her, his hair and beard a solid gray, and his face was more wrinkled than she remembered. There was still the strong bone structure under those wrinkles, but the years hadn't been particularly kind. Her nose immediately caught the scent of alcohol and from the lack of focus in his gaze she could tell he was drunk.

"Hi Dad," Sarah managed to get out but there was nothing else she could think to say.

"Hello, Sarah," her father greeted, though she noted the slight slur of the 'S' in her name. He turned and walked away from the door and Sarah took that as her invitation to come in. She made sure to shut the door behind her and followed him to the kitchen where he sat down at the table. Sarah took the seat beside him, settling into silence. She didn't really know what to say to him, and she'd never had to deal with her father being drunk either, so she didn't know what to expect.

"How have you been?" Sarah asked, figuring that maybe some small talk was a good place to start.

Her father ignored the question and scowled. "Why are you wearing that?"

Sarah looked down at her dress uniform then back to the man beside her. "I had to meet with an Admiral. He wanted to congratulate me on my promotion." In truth it had been more of a political move on the Admiral's part, as being friendly with a newly promoted Spartan officer was a good way to maybe garner some favor. But Sarah wasn't about to tell her father that. "I was recently made Spartan Commander. I lead all five hundred Spartan-IVs on board the UNSC Infinity." Sarah sat up taller as she spoke of her new station. It was a heavy responsibility, one she wasn't sure she was worthy of, but she'd accepted the post and would do her best. And it was still a big feat for someone her age to be promoted to such a position. She was currently in command of more Spartans than any Spartan before her ever had been, a fact that she was proud of but also terrified by all at the same time.

"You look ridiculous," her father said with a derisive huff. His dismissal of her accomplishment hurt more than Sarah had expected. She hated to admit it, but she'd stupidly been hoping he'd be proud of her. She'd thought she was past wanting his praise...but apparently she hadn't outgrown that. Apparently she was still the same child scribbling with crayons and hoping her father would pin her work to the fridge - which he never would. There had never been decorations on their fridge. She remembered seeing pictures put on the fridge at her friend's houses and the smile of pride on their parents face as they praised their child. Her father didn't praise.

"Head of the toy soldiers all standing in a line, watching the people burn. Just to stand by and let Eridanus be invaded and glassed." Her father's words were low and he was clearly bitter. If it had been anyone else she would have let out a string of curses and told him where to shove his opinion. But this wasn't some random person; it was her father, so she kept her mouth shut. He'd always been against the UNSC, but it seemed that whatever filter he usually had in regard to talking about it was weakened by alcohol. Either that, or he'd become more anti-military over the years and it had just been that long since they'd last spoken. "Just another weapon to use against the people who want to be free while they stand by and let corruption spread."

Finally Sarah had had enough and decided to speak up. "You can't have it both ways. You can't claim to want freedom, but say when the UNSC tries to protect people we're tyrants. You can't demand we leave people alone and then turn around and get mad when we do it." As soon as she said the words she knew that she should have kept her mouth shut. Her father had always believed that children should be seen rather than heard, and the last time they'd discussed the UNSC she'd left the house for good to become an ODST. "The UNSC can't do anything if the people can't decide if they want the help."

"You don't understand," her father snapped, his anger evident. "You never did know what the UNSC was really like. You never saw them as the monsters they are."

"I understand that they are the reason why humanity is still around today, and not burned completely to ash by the Covenant. I know that they're the only ones that can stop the rebels from killing innocent people." Sarah couldn't back down now. If she did then she'd be relenting to her father's view and admitting she was wrong. And Sarah wasn't about to do that, even if this was her father. "Out of the two of us, only one has actual experience with what the UNSC does."

"You always thought you understood things that you knew nothing about." Her father frowned and shook his head. "Your brother would've thought differently. He was smart enough that he would have been able to see what the UNSC really is."

That comment struck a nerve that Palmer wasn't prepared to deal with. She'd expected they'd probably end up arguing about the UNSC, but she hadn't expected her father to bring her brother up. "How would you know? He died before he was even old enough to have an opinion on the UNSC." Her brother had passed away when he was only a child, long before Sarah was born, but her father would sometimes talk about him. She'd been painfully aware growing up that her father would have preferred having her brother back rather than her, and it had always been a raw point for her.

"I know more about him than you. What do you really know about anything?" her father growled out.

"At least I know that a father shouldn't need to be drunk to talk to his daughter." Sarah's words were harsh and bitter, letting out some of her pain. His current condition was clearly evident that he couldn't face her coming to visit him while being sober. "What would mom think of you if she could see you right now?" Bringing up her mother was a bit of a cheap shot, but she deemed it was only fair after he'd mentioned her sibling.

"You don't know anything about your mother either," her father nearly shouted. "If the UNSC had saved Eridanus then your mother wouldn't have killed herself." Sarah was stunned to silence by his words, but he didn't seem to notice. "If she were here now, I'm sure she'd think I was handling your betrayal better than expected."

* * *

"My father always told me that my mother had an illness, and that it killed her - which I guess is still true," Sarah scowled and let out a long breath. "So after he dropped that on me, that's when the arguing really started. He said he'd never told me the whole truth because he wanted to preserve my memory of my mother, and I argued that I didn't have any memories of her to preserve. I ended up storming out of the house and that's when I called you." Sarah smiled at the man across from her. "Thanks for coming. And I'm sorry you had to hear me like that, Tom."

Tom had listened to the entire story without a word, just sipping at the drink she'd long ago abandoned. "Of course I would come, Sarah. Though when I was called by a sobbing Spartan I felt like some tragedy must have happened, and that you were mortally wounded or something. I'm just happy to find out you aren't dying."

"No, just completely ruing what possible reconciliation I could have had with my father." Sarah slouched in her seat and wished yet again that she could drink these troubles away.

"It was unfair of him to drop something that big, something he'd been lying to you about, out of nowhere like that," Tom said. "You went there with intentions of being civil, but when the conversation starts out with one of you needing to be drunk I can't see a good ending to it. I'm glad you seem to have calmed down now, though."

"I had a long ride from Luna to be able to get a grip on myself. I don't even know why I was so upset," Sarah admitted. "I guess I was angry he didn't tell me how my mother really died, but I don't know why. I don't remember my mother, so why should I care if something I thought I knew about her was a lie? Why does knowing that she killed herself hurt?" Tom wisely stayed silent, not interjecting at the moment. "I mean, I guess it doesn't surprise me that my father didn't tell me. He never did treat me like I could handle things. Though I'm still mad at him for lying all these years. Even if I don't remember her, I have a right to know the truth about her, at least when I'm old enough to understand." She let silence hang for a couple seconds before she spoke again. "You were right. I shouldn't have gone to see him."

"It wasn't wrong for you to have gone to see him," Tom said, smiling slightly at her. "From what you've told me of how things have been between you and your father I'm actually proud of you for doing so. You tried to build a bridge, and although he didn't want to you at least tired. That's more than you ever needed to do. It didn't turn out the way you wanted, but you won't live with the regret of never trying."

"I don't know which is worse," Sarah admitted. "If I hadn't gone I would have regretted it, but there always would have been that thought that things could have been good. Is that regret worse than knowing that there is no patching things up now? Is it better than knowing that no matter what I do my father will never be proud of me, and just pining for my dead brother? Is it better than knowing I wasn't good enough for my mother to want to live for?"

"Depressed people don't think like that, Sarah," Tom interjected. "Part of being suicidal means thinking people don't want them or don't need them."

"I was three," Sarah countered. "What three-year-old doesn't need their mother?"

"I didn't say their thinking was logical, only that wasn't how they thought. Of course you needed your mother, but people suffering from those conditions don't think anyone cares that they're alive or wants them to be alive." Sarah didn't try to refute Tom, and he accepted her silence. "I'm sorry that your father isn't proud of what you've accomplished. I had to work for years to become a Commander, and without wanting it you've achieved that with no real leadership training ahead of time."

"I'm not sure how much of an accomplishment it is then. I mean Musa seems to think that I can do it, but I don't have any real idea how to be a Spartan Commander."

"I trust in Musa, and I know that you'll do excellent," Tom assured her. "I have faith in you." He smiled at her and Sarah couldn't help but smile in return. "Maybe I can actually make you a bit happier, because I have something for you." Tom picked up a box that he'd put on the seat beside him and set it on the table.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, but the smile on Lasky's face made her curious. She reached out, slid the box closer, and opened it. She stared down at the items inside and glanced across the table at Lasky. He was now watching her with anticipation, waiting to see her reaction. She picked out one of the items and lifted it up, examining it. "Is that my helmet...in cookie form?"

"I was worried you wouldn't be able to tell what they were, but I guess you can." Tom sounded relieved and the smile on his face was wider. Sarah looked back to the cookie in her hand and had to admit it was a little difficult to discern that the triangular shape was her helmet, but there was little else she would recognize that was white with lines of red and a bar of blue. She looked to the other cookies and noticed that they were all varying things that related to the UNSC. There was a misshapen bird that she suspected was supposed to be the Spartan eagle, as well as one that was doubled-barred like a Commander's stripes. "They're sugar cookies so they're your favorite kind. They're my way of saying congratulations on your promotion."

"Thank you, Tom. This does make me feel better," Sarah said with a smile. "I can't believe that you made these for me."

"Well I had some free time, so I went to meet up with an old classmate from CAMS and her daughter basically demanded that we make cookies. She agreed to help me make you a special gift. Though I doubt that you'll be able to tell which of us decorated which, because I was pretty awful at it."

"I love them, Tom," Sarah reassured him, setting the cookie back in the box. "Though I almost don't want to eat them because they're so nice."

"They aren't that good; you don't have to pander to me, Sarah." Tom shook his head slightly with an amused smile. "It's nothing special."

"No, it is," Sarah refuted. "I went to see my father to try to rebuild my family, but the UNSC's given me a better one." She paused for a moment and stood from the table. "Come on, let's find a theater nearby and check out if there are any movies that we haven't seen yet."

Tom stood and followed her as she started to move toward the door. "If I didn't know any better, Commander Palmer, I'd think you were asking me on a date."

"Good thing you know better," Sarah shot back. "You should know I expect the man to be the one to ask."


End file.
